merry christmas!

So this year DH and I made a big leap for mankind and sent out a christmas newsletter (our first one!). Unfortunately, I've discovered that many of them were not received. Please contact me if you would like me to email you a copy.

Also, I would like to thank the secret elf who left the gingerbread house on our doorstep. It was so cute!

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, I would like to remind you to listen to this very special recording of O Holy Night.

1.5 years of love and soap

Today is my 1.5 year anniversary to DH who is my DH. Time has gone so fast! It has been so wonderful. Many other things/people have been in my life the last 1.5 years. Clothes. Sheets. Part of a set of plates (the other part did not make it 1.5 years). But there is also a bar of soap. It has lasted and lasted (and we use it EVERY time we wash our hands--which is a lot). It is the soap that DH's sister Anita gave me as part of a care package for Christmas 2 years ago. The soap that was finally opened 2 weeks before we got married. The soap that Sarah O used that night she and other Melvillains came over and ate gnocchi. Sarah O. said we had cool soap. Well Sarah O, that soap is still there if you want to come back and use it again.

Aside from the excitement of growing old together, the next most exciting thing in our lives is how long the soap will last.

nee

So today at work I was calling someone and left a message on their answering machine. This in itself is not remarkable or even worth mentioning.

But. There is more.

I said, "This is Laura R--. Er, H--."

Whoops.

Ha.

Haha.

Hahaha.

Mwahahaha.

The end.

P.S. Yes I have made a modest effort to conceal my last name(s). It is true. In case you were in any way confused by the dashes used previously, that is why. I have always made this effort in my blogger life. Now I too can join the ranks of unknown last name persons written about in various places including the works of Jane Austen.

The very end.

the box that became part of the floor

Once upon a time there was a box. I packed it many years ago. It followed me from move to move, but I never opened it. There are a lot of boxes like that, but most of them are in my hope chest. However, this one was not. It's been sitting in front of my dresser for the last 1.5 years. It's far enough away that I can still open the drawers. Gradually it just became part of the floor. I vacuum around it, stack clothes on it, but mostly just forget about it. There are a couple other boxes like that..but I know what is in those. Hangers. Winter clothes. Etc.

About 8 years ago my mom and I went to Family Fabrics. It was a going-out-of-business sale. I chose a bunch of material (at lightning speed, according to my mom) that I could use to make a quilt for my bed. Then we bought two quilting books. Somewhere in a box is a bag of 20+ yards of fabric and the quilting book with my chosen design. Today I thought I'd try and find that box. Not wanting to go into the storm cellar if I didn't have to, I decided to open up the box that had become part of the floor. There was no fabric, but I discovered other long forgotten treasures.

1. My ancient white baby blanket.

2. Another baby blanket. I don't remember this one.

3. A beautiful pewter clock from my great grandmothers house. I'd totally forgotten I had it. (It was in pieces, so I tried to find a picture of how it fit together and eventually found this picture. I hung it up in the kitchen, and even replaced the zillion year old C-battery inside:)

4. A framed medallion for the Utah Aviation Hall of Fame in honor of my great grandfather.

5. Two boxes within the box. These will remain shrouded in mystery.

6. Old hymnals from earlier days of the LDS church.

7. I Have a Song for You, Volume 1 & 2!!!!!!! I was lamenting the fact not too long ago that I couldn't find these. Yay:)

Now if only I knew where that fabric went...

the first christmas tree

David and I are now for real. We have our own christmas tree!!! Since we have zero space, we bought a really skinny (artificial) tree. We think it is super awesome. It turned out I had a zillion ornaments already that I'd accumulated (though I only ever bought ONE ornament in my life).

And on top of the tree is a funnel. David's family puts a funnel on the top of their Christmas tree, and so Freddy the Christmas Funnel has now come to our home also. Yessssss.

P.S. Do you like the random Christmas hand towel I am pretending to be a tree skirt?

P.P.S. David just got a haircut. He is SO cute:)

It's official. DDC says so. Pluto is no longer a planet.

While playing around with the geographic heading information for the Dewey Decimal Classification System, I discovered something totally interesting:

So remember in 2006 when there was a heated discussion among scientists about whether Pluto should be a planet or not? Pluto lost and was demoted to "dwarf planet". Several events followed this resolution.

First, a new facebook group was created, called "When I was your age, Pluto was a planet". I joined, naturally.

Second, we all contemplated an existence without Pluto. What would become of those memorization aids for learning the planets? My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us NOTHING. That's what. No pizza for you.

And third, the Dewey Decimal Classification System was updated. The classification "Pluto and transplutonian planets" was altered to "Trans-Neptunian objects". Thus all those books about Pluto are now technically about "Trans-Neptunian objects." How depressing.

And that is it. There is no hope for Pluto now. DDC is the final word.

The end.

speaking of awesome film clips...

This one is not to be missed. Especially if you have a mustache:) Thanks Rachel for posting this!

The Dewey Decimal System of Love

Today I listened to 3.5 hours of lecture on how to construct dewey decimal system classification numbers by subject analysis. It gets super complicated in the details. I'm taking a course on cataloging and classification this semester, and I'm really liking it.

That said, it reminded me of a book I came across several years ago called the Dewey Decimal System of Love. I've never read it, but thought the title was pretty memorable. The reviews about it on Amazon are pretty terrible, so you should probably avoid it:)

Then there is Alcatraz versus the Evil Librarians. It's written by that Sanderson guy (aka Brandon) who is finishing the Wheel of Time series (and has done a pretty good job with Book 12, from the recent reviews). But I haven't read Alcatraz OR book 12. Yet. DH read Alcatraz recently though. He liked it.

On Weird Al's Birthday, DH and I watched a bunch of clips from UHF on youtube. One of which is from a UHF television show called "Conan the Librarian." This clip is pretty awesome. After watching this clip I thought there MUST be someone with a blog called Conanthelibrarian.blogspot.com. And there is. But it has been woefully abandoned. Shame on them.

a killer ride

I once knew this girl. I met her at a math/science summer camp just before my freshman year in college (I know, I'm way nerdy).

There were 21 girls in that camp. (Also known as ACCESS.) Near the beginning of the summer, we all sat in a circle and played a getting to know you game. We were all supposed to name our dream car and why.

I only remember two things about that day. I remember what I said, and I remember what one other girl said.

I said my dream car was a Saturn. This had nothing to do with the car itself, and everything to do with the name. I wanted to be an Astrophysicist, after all. But mostly, I just didn't know anything about cars beyond the world of Pontiac and Oldsmobile that my parents supported.

Then there was the other girl. She was into meteorology. She was goth. And she said her dream car was a Hearse. You know. A Hearse. I forget if she said why. But we all sort of looked at her closely in that moment, wondering if she had some internal conflict or teen rebel moment going on. No one made any comments.

Then this morning (8 years later) I saw this article on sfgate.com. Apparently, lots of people own Hearses. You could probably live in one. Or die in one.

My favorite line is at the end of the article, when the author says this: "When the time comes, it's going to take me for that last ride."

pickles: an attempt at domesticity

This portion of the post was written August 18, 2009.

It was not many weeks into marital bliss that I discovered DH has a great love of pickles. If I buy pickles, he eats them. No languishing forgotten in the fridge. He eats about two pickles a day, on average. One before leaving for school, another after getting home. Pickles (the "good" kind), are kind of a lot of money though. And I only ever saw them on decent sale ONCE. (I bought 8 jars, and they were gone in the blink of an eye! I should have just cleaned out the store.) So I buy a jar here and there when a lesser brand would go on sale, but the sales aren't much of a deal.

Poor DH. He does not have enough pickles to eat.

And now, the seemingly tangential story that will transition smoothly back to the world of pickles:

DH and I ate at a friends house last Saturday night. The lovely lady of the house, Karina F, had just finished canning some peach jam. In awe at her domestic skill, she pointed me toward the counter where I saw her homemade pickles. I tasted some too, and they were yum. I then determined that I MUST make pickles for DH. Especially since small cucumbers are in season and cheap.

So. I attempted to make pickles. I sort of followed this recipe. Except I have no idea what a "head" of dill weed is, so I ignored that. And I didn't have any ice (or ice trays for that matter), so did not do the ice bath. Then, I got to the part where I tried to sterilize the quart jars in boiling water. It turns out my biggest pot was not tall enough to submerge the jars. (Drat!) So I tried to make do. I sort of "processed" half of the filled jars for 5 minutes in boiling water, and the rest I didn't bother since I didn't think it would seal anyway (and I of course googled it and somebody random on chowhound said it wasn't necessary to process them.

Here is the result:

I am supposed to wait two months to allow for mixing of flavors, but we'll see.

-------------

October 24th:

So, there are only 2 jars of pickles left. David began eating them after about 2 weeks. And they are really good! Pretty crunchy too. I think the ones I did NOT boil fared better. Next time I do this, I will try a canning method that is specific for keeping pickles crisp. No more submerged boiling, but perhaps steaming? Not sure yet. I sort of don't have any canning equipment. I'll do more research next year:)

PS. Janie the magnificent has a lovely post about her family pickle rule. No more than two per person per day. I think we might need this rule in my house eventually as well!

more on twinkies: the Weird Al celebration

I've already posted about DH's antics on cinco de Mayo. Or, rather, twinko de Mayo. My husband is somewhat obsessed with Weird Al, you see. And yesterday was Weird Al's 50th birthday. DH celebrated the occasion by consuming a twinkie wiener sandwich. (So named in the movie, UHF. See this video clip).

This is so gross.

First, here is Weird Al consuming his twinkie wiener sandwich.

DH is now preparing the elements of his sandwich. First, he is microwaving the hot dog. (and dancing a jig)

Note the hot dog. It has been cooked.

See the twinkie. He had to make a special trip to the store to purchase the 3 sandwich elements required, by the way.

See DH cut the twinkie in half.

Note the hot dog is now inside the twinkie.

This is the worst part. That yellow stuff is NOT mustard. It is cheese whiz. YUCK.

And here he goes. He eats it. And he claims it was quite tasty. Eeeewwww.

David says this is an annual tradition. So for the rest of my life I will have to endure him eating twinkies twice a year with disgusting toppings. Someday our kids will do it too I'm sure. And I will hide.

Rolos

So I was buying fish. (Yes, DH, you're getting trout for dinner. Lucky you.)

Behind me in line was this little girl buying two packages of rolos. The grocer guy starts off talking to her saying, "Van Blyck? Van Boren? Van __(fill in the blank)___." He lists off 7 or 8 Van Something names.

Little girl: You didn't guess Van Halen.

Grocer guy: Well...They're kind of before your time.

Little girl: (silence).

Grocer guy: But I liked them better when it was David Lee Roth and not that other guy. You know what I'm talking about?

Little girl: No.

Grocer guy: Good. Let's keep it that way.

I think I missed something crucial in understanding this exchange.

poem of fall

Fall is like a rag

It's still smelly from last year

sticking on your face.

Is it:

a) Fall. the season of cooling.

b) Fall. where rocks fall on you.

c) Fall. where you get sick and fall over, and never get up again.

.

.

.

Correct answer: C. Alas.

the awesomeness that is my computer setup

Last week I had a problem. My (desktop) computer blacked out, and upon reset, there was no video output. Grrrrr. I checked all the cords to no avail.

But this has happened before. Except that time it was the CPU. And my bro-in-law saved me.

But this time I did it all myself. I've had to trouble shoot this computer enough (though unsuccessfully in the past) to pretend to know a thing or two.

So. I went to frys. You know. Frys. But then, before moving to CA, I did not know this thing called Frys. (Pronounced: fries. not friss. And it's like a super warehouse of electronic stuff). Frys is 4 blocks from my house. And I bought a video card, ram, and a power supply. I tested the new parts one at a time to see if it would output video. But then I realized that not all video cards have the same interface (heh). So I went back and got another video card...and swapped it..and WAS TRIUMPHANT! Now I just have to return the rest of the stuff I didn't need.

Except, I'd already given up and had ordered a laptop (my first!) during an online sale a few days earlier. I sort of needed a computer. ASAP.

So now I have put away my lovely desktop for future use. Except I hooked up my old monitor into my new laptop so now I have AWESOME dual screen action. YESSSSSSSS.

the hardest year

So far, the hardest year of my life was my first year in graduate school at Stanford. I have never felt so stupid, defeated, and stressed out. But I came away from it having learned much.

1) to run

I never studied on friday or saturday nights in high school. Nor in undergrad (except for once when I had a big math project, but that was secretly fun so it doesn't count). But that stopped in grad school. I studied. I remember one saturday night about 9 pm I got really mad--at my homework and that I was stressed enough to be studying on a saturday night. So I decided to run to let off steam. I ran the campus loop, which is 4 miles. In hindsight, I realize it was stupid to go running in the dark late at night, alone. AND stupid to run 4 miles when I hadn't run at all for at least 6 months. But it made me feel better. I kept on running the campus loop while in grad school. I love running. And it all started one saturday night.

2) to read

I read in high school in undergrad. But I didn't read all the time. And I certainly didn't read feverishly. Stanford taught me to read feverishly. The most beloved item I purchased for my room at Stanford is what I call my medusa lamp. (Below). I could twist each section to point wherever I wanted. And I put flourescent bulbs in it so it would be SUPER bright. I love lots of light to read. I read 150 books that year (which was a lot for me!). I read mostly in the middle of the night. I would do homework until I felt like stopping, and then would read until 3 am to escape. I really needed to escape. Some nights I didn't get to bed until 4 or 5 am, and I think 6 am once. And then I would sleep:)

(I've often thought that if I slept from 3 am to 9 am NOW, I'd get sick. I can't believe I managed that sleep schedule without getting sick at the time.)

3) to use itunes. And to discover Miles Davis.

I never used itunes until I moved to Stanford. I lived in a graduate apartment building on campus with everyone on the same network. Thus, I could listen to music that was shared on the network through itunes. I listened to Snow Patrol a lot, but the thing that I really loved was Miles Davis. I never listen to him now. And I never listened to him before. But for that first year at Stanford, I listened to him every night for hours and hours when I would do homework. I found it soothing, and it helped me to focus and get through many long nights. In junior high, I would listen to music while I did math (and I also used pen. As if I would need to erase:)). But in high school, math got a little more complicated and I needed all my concentration (and a pencil)--so turned the music off. But I discovered that it was just the words that were distracting. And so itunes helped me to discover Miles Davis. No words. Sort of jazzy. Good memories. Maybe someday I'll listen to Miles Davis again, but for now I prefer to think of him as a blanket that I no longer need.

fantastic fiction

This post is nothing more than a plug for one of my most favorite websites of all time. I adore it. And go there far too often.

It is fantastic fiction. Or rather, fantasticfiction.com. It is a huge database of authors and books with author bios and organized lists (and cover images) of all the books the author has written, grouped by series and listed in order of publication. It also has a "coming soon" section and a "most popular" section. Authors are also categorized into genres.

Here are my reasons for loving this site:

1) It's super-organized. And complete. So far there is only one author I've looked for that isn't on there--Sarah Jewett. But she's been dead for 100 years, and is pretty obscure.

2) There is a section at the bottom of each author's page that lists other authors also visited by people who viewed the original author's page--and sorted by frequency. (um..that was sortof confusing. In short, it links to similar author's pages.) I have discovered many authors this way.

3) In the listing of all authors on the website, my name is not there. Thus, should I turn into an amazing fantasy author my name will be unique and not confused with anyone else.

4) I can keep up on what's new and discover long forgotten authors.

5) I can amuse myself by looking in the "most popular" section. At the moment, the #1 most popular is "A Rogue of my Own", by Johanna Lindsey. Ahem. You know you want it.

a favorite snack.

My latest favorite snack is a combination of these two things:

1) Real yogurt.

and 2) Creamed honey. Mmmm.

I get a tiny bit of honey on my spoon, then get a spoonful of yogurt. Then I eat it.

Creamed honey is much tastier for spreading on breads than regular honey. The texture and taste are different. But I do use regular honey in baking.

(By the way, I ate yogurt while making this post.)

THE Ward Campout

DH and I went on the ward campout this weekend. Have you ever gone camping with a lot of native mexican and salvadorean families? Me either. And I learned some very important things:

1) Don't worry about being hungry. There is always food. Even if they tell you initially you will be on your own for breakfast, don't listen. Everybody will bring so much food that you won't even notice you forgot the pumpkin loaves and hard boiled eggs (that were supposed to be your breakfast) on the counter at home.

2) As Sarahi told me, there are no light meals in a Mexican home. All meals are big. There are no "light" breakfasts in Mexico.

3) Salsa. (or Chimol, did they call it? I googled it and it is the name for Salvadorean Salsa.) Araceli did nothing but make salsa. Always chopping, adding to the bowl. And we ate it. Yum. She cut up tomatoes, onion, jalapenos, cilantro, and squirted lime juice into it.

Then there was the other salsa. Hermana (sister) Garcia had roasted jalapenos and tomatoes at home, and brought them to camp. She also brought a very coarse mortar and pestle (very heavy). She peeled the jalapenos and tomatoes, and crushed them together. It was hot! My mom would have died coughing. Hermano (brother) Garcia claims that the salsa tastes better when crushed in the mortar, when compared to mixing or chopping in another bowl.

4) How to cut vegetables REALLY tiny. Now I am going to be the master chopper woman, after watching the pros.

5) The art of grilling. They sure can fire up a grill! At Mexican groceries, you can buy meat from the butcher sliced very thinly. It's thin enough that you can tear it apart into strips with your hands. I learned how to clean a grill too--you scrub it with an onion! Maybe everybody else knew that except me.

6) Grilled scallions (green onions). They grill them and then just chomp away at the white parts. As I was told repeatedly, onions are good for the lungs. Apparently.

7) I asked one woman if she uses tomatoes with every meal. It was met with a resounding YES! And she also uses pinto beans and perhaps (corn) tortillas with every meal too. Then I asked her if she eats the same thing every night. She laughed (of course, since it was a joke) and said no. I have yet to discover her cooking variations however. Hermana Garcia's kitchen hopefully will not be shrouded in mystery for too long.

8) They sure know how to party! DH and I were tired and dirty by the time we were done with breakfast (more like brunch). Everybody else was like, "Aw, you are going home? We were going to go party at the beach." And they were 20 years older than us!

The end.

happy birthday to me:)

I am now 26. (As of yesterday). Being an even number will put things in perspective I'm sure. Both my factors are prime too. 2*13. That's almost as good as being a real prime number.

Look at the lovely gingerbread upside down cake (made by DH!):

Notice there are only 19 candles (we ran out). I was ok turning 19 though. That year was not such a bad year. It is a prime number and everything.

Some of you may think I get too excited about the mathematical relationships of my age. Some of you might think it is nerdy and lame. But when I am 89 (and excited to be 89 because it is a prime number) you will be just plain old 89 with lots of health problems and nothing exciting going on.

So there.

the perfect bean: a journey

When it comes to burritos, I always get pinto. (You know, they always ask "black or pinto?" unless they haughtily assume you want black and don't ask). I like pinto beans. Black beans would be like invaders.

Except, there are things in which I think black beans are perfect. For example, something I have made increasingly often this summer is a black bean salad. It contains: 2-3 chopped tomatoes, a can of black beans (or 1 1/4 cup cooked black beans), 2-3 ears of corn (raw & fresh!, with the corn cut off the ear), a chopped avocado, and lots of chopped cilantro (like half cup of leaves maybe?). Reija was my inspiration on this recipe. She made a version of it for the dinner at which we met her beaux, Bob, this past summer. (And now she is engaged, how wonderful is that!)

I have all the sudden remembered I have two ears of corn in the fridge. Anyway. Back to beans. So, I decided that though 89 cents for a can of black beans is not highway robbery, much of the time I don't have a can of beans (alas, poor planning). This means I have to go to the "charming" but expensive corner store to get beans, and they charge 50 cents more for a can. So I decided my dependence on canned beans must end.

(As a side note, another reason for having black beans is because eventually I want to try to make this flourless chocolate cake that uses black beans.)

Attempt 1. Method: Soak all day, then boil.

This did not go well. The soaking went fine and I rinsed the beans afterward. Next, I boiled the beans. It took more than 2 hours of boiling for the beans to be fully cooked. They did not hold shape well either and were falling apart. This would be ok for a pureed dip, or inside a burrito (someone else's burrito perhaps), but NOT in a salad. Alas.

Attempt 2. Method: Overnight soak, then pressure cook.

See the pressure cooker. I just bought it last week. Before today, I had NEVER used a pressure cooker. (And didn't know how to use one either!)

Ok. After spending hours trying to figure out the directions (which were insufficient, and thus I turned to the web and youtube), I finally began my first use of the pressure cooker. In retrospect, I can say that I did not have the heat turned up high enough to build pressure up all the way. (The giant toggle thing in the center of the lid is supposed to shake around at the correct pressure, but there was steam coming out near the handle so I was confused!). Thus the beans weren't fully cooked after 10 minutes. (10 minutes, by the way, is what the pressure cooker directions say is necessary to cook soaked black beans. Only 10 minutes! Not 2 hours!). So I tried again, and this time waited longer, on the edge of my seat, and the pressure built up correctly. There is a little pin that pops up near the handle when it reaches pressure, I discovered. I think that also locks the lid in place so you can't open it until the pressure goes down.

So. After cooking (at correct pressure) 5 more minutes, the beans were cooked, but falling apart. The directions said for the beans to stay in tact, I should let pressure fall naturally (which is what I did) and not manually release the steam. This is what it looked like (below):

I think I added way too much water.

And this is how it looks strained and rinsed (below). The pressure cook method worked better than boiling, for sure. But I think if I'd used the pressure cooker correctly it would have turned out better. Next time, hopefully it will be perfect! (Must add salt next time too.)

P.S. There is one thing I can't figure out about my pressure cooker. There is a backup safety valve on the lid (the small attachment shown to the left on the lid in the picture). It screws on and off. Is it supposed to be screwed on tightly (or loosely)? The directions do not say...and I know not. Anyone know?

in the heat of battle

Also while visiting Utah, DH and I spent time athleticizing with his family.

Mrs. H sure can swing that club.

My brilliant balancing act.

Jonny watches thoughtfully from the sidelines.

Mr. H preps his golf ball. Let it be known he had 3 holes in one. Go Mr. H!

And now, tennis. Be aware that the temperature was in the upper 90s. If you are wondering why I am not in these tennis pictures, it's because I was sitting in the shade leaning against a fence like any sane person would under the circumstances.

I inherited nephew Cooper upon marriage to DH. He is so adorable.

Aw. DH is smiling at me.

Cooper's mom, Anita (below), turned 25 the same day my nephew Lucas turned 1. She and I are the same age now...but regrettably for only 3 weeks since I am soon to leave 5^2 for 2*13.

The H brothers battle it out. Notice the intense facial expressions!

Jonny is ready for anything DH can dish out.

This is Jonny's thoughtful moment before he pounces!

With the amount of golf and tennis going on this trip, you might be fooled into thinking that's how the H family spend most of their time. But don't be fooled. Trivial Pursuit, Guess-what-President-is-on-my-forehead (below), and newspaper Price is Right are just a few of the games known to have gripped the H family during our trip:)

fame in the eyes of many / love poem

DH and I met in an LDS singles ward. Stanford 1st, to be specific. I didn't like him. (But he liked me!) You might even say I avoided him. In fact, you might say a lot more things that I can't believe I ever felt/thought/did! A negative opinion, once formed, dies hard. Unless God smiles upon you, that is.

But then, 3 years later, we got married. How did this happen? Loathe to Love in 3 years flat. Our story has become famous (or infamous?) among the Stanford singles wards. People I don't know and have never talked to know about us (that is, never talked to until they walk up to me at a party and say, "Are you the laura that dated so and so..." etc). I also suspect that it is a celebrated story because it has some similarities to Pride and Prejudice (which is of course wildly popular you know).

But we have now possibly reached the pinnacle of fame. We have been mentioned on The Apron Stage, by none other than Sarah Olson. Quoting her post from August 17:

And a few years ago, a guy in my church (Dave) loved a girl in my church (Laura) who hated him. She hated him. But Dave pursued and pursued and one day Laura realized she was ridiculous for not loving Dave because he was so awesome. They married and still beam at each other in public and in private. (As charming and hope-giving as their story is, it put the fear of Love into each of the women we knew. What if the man of our dreams is the very guy we like the least? This is a question I have still not resolved. I hope I never have to, please bless.)

Sarah's point about the fear of Love is well founded. It is true I did not like DH. Then, all the sudden I did. This was nothing less than God opening my eyes. There were several difficult months of dating DH where I had two warring angels on my shoulders. The good angel saw DH with newly opened eyes, and the bad angel remembered the way I used to see him. It was difficult (to say the least) to reconcile the two versions of feelings in my head.

And now I must say this: DH did not deserve to be unliked. He was only ever charming and handsome. Beware how quick you judge a potential suitor. People get nervous and say stupid things. Or you might feel emotionally unavailable because you met someone the day before that you already like a lot. Tunnel vision is not helpful there. Or you might hate bowling and thus remember that date and suitor negatively.

And now for a love poem (haiku).

Ode to DH

DH is my love

my hiccups are really loud

but he still loves me

Lucas: 1.0

David and I went to Utah for a few days to visit the fam. While we were there, my nephew Lucas had his first birthday. See below for a scene by scene description!

Lucas eyes the carrot cake, amidst a crowd of relatives.

Lucas is now thinking it might be ok to eat some of the cake.

The Sassy Mama. (Talking on the phone AND cutting cake at the same time! So talented.)

Lucas has not only decided he likes the cake, but decides to crush it against his chest. Good thing the Sassy Mama decided to remove his shirt!

Aw.

Monterey - part 2

Part 2 of Monterey trip.

There are a lot of statues around downtown Monterey. We were walking around and saw this one of John Steinbeck! He is a big name down in Monterey. This was taken on Cannery Row.

Bird picture. Yeah, DH really likes birds.

This is poison oak. It was actually labeled with a sign! We didn't touch it:)

More birds. (believe me, there are many many more bird pics not posted!)

We are standing at the end of Fisherman's Wharf. There are a LOT of boats down there!

Lovely sun reflecting on the water in the evening.

This is a diver's helmet. So heavy!

DH and I tried to get a picture of each of us with the waves nearly overtaking the little rock we stand on.

This is where we stayed.

Awesome rock bench!

Bird. Ahem. Notice the red feet.

The end. We had a lovely time. It was our first real trip (excluding family visits to Utah) since our honeymoon:)